The Bride's Portion. Susan Paul

her. “What’s happened? How did your meeting with the Lord of Gyer fare?”

      “Edyth,” Lillis said, taking her companion’s hand and squeezing it, “I have a dreadful anticipation that we are about to be in more trouble than we presently are. I do believe it might be well if we spent much of this night on our knees.”

      Chapter Six

      The trip to the Lord of Gyer’s private chamber was becoming a regular journey, Lillis thought the next day as she dutifully followed the servant who had come to escort her. She and Edyth had been woken at an unusually early hour that morn by Aunt Leta, who, in an agitated manner, had told them to rise and prepare themselves, though for what she didn’t explain.

      Lillis hadn’t been able to get a word of information out of anyone about the outcome of the fire, though she’d sensed tension and trepidation in every servant who had come and gone in the hours that lapsed between their rising and the summons that finally came from the Lord of Gyer.

      The servant and she reached the bottom of the stairs, and Lillis glanced out across the great hall. The sight that greeted her there was totally unexpected. The entire Baldwin family, including the children and the twins, along with what seemed to be the rest of the castlefolk and several villagers, were assembled there. With shock she realized they were all staring at her. Every single one of them. Their expressions were openly curious, as well as condemning, and with a jolt of fright Lillis turned her head and continued on her way after the servant.

      Loud, argumentative voices could be heard as they neared the closed doors of Alexander of Gyer’s private chamber, and the servant signaled her to halt. They stood there for some time, listening to the muffled voices that were sometimes pleading, sometimes crying, sometimes yelling, until the doors flew open and Barbara ran out into the hall. Her delicate hands were pressed against her face, so that she did not see where she went, and she stumbled against the wall. She was so distraught and blinded, totally unable to help herself, that Lillis instinctively moved toward her, putting one hand out to support and guide her.

      “Lady Barbara, are you well?” she asked with concern, steadying the girl.

      Barbara lowered her hands. She swayed momentarily, her wet face a picture of misery, until she realized who it was that helped her.

      “You!” she screamed, drawing back and slapping Lillis so hard and suddenly that Lillis was temporarily stunned. She barely had time to realize what had happened before the hysterical creature hit her again, screaming and crying words that Lillis couldn’t understand. Barbara lunged at her with both hands held out, as though to strangle her, but just as suddenly was snatched aside.

      “Stop it, Barbara! Stop it!” It was Willem who held the struggling girl, shaking her by the shoulders in an effort to calm her. “Barbara,” he said firmly, “remember yourself.”

      Lillis stood dumbly, staring openmouthed at her attacker. Barbara stared back with venom.

      “I hate you!” she shouted like an angry child, then ruined the effect with a pitiful sob. “I’ll not let you take what’s mine! I would rather see you dead first!”

      This earned her a couple more shakes from Willem. “Be quiet! You don’t know what you say. Take the lady Lillis in,” he instructed the servant who stood close by. “I’ll take care of Lady Barbara.” He dragged the girl away, leaving Lillis staring after them in shock.

      “My lady?” the servant asked tersely, causing Lillis to look at him. He eyed her with hostility, as though she’d been the one who’d done the attacking, and motioned her forward with his hand.

      Lillis looked at the chamber doors, then squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, crossed herself twice and walked in. The servant shut them behind her.

      Alexander of Gyer looked terrible. Once again he stood gazing out one of the long windows, but unlike the day before, his clothes were covered with soot, as were his face and hands. His handsome chin showed evidence of unshaven stubble, and his dark hair was in a state of disorder. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, indeed, it was obvious that he’d only just returned to the castle.

      “My lord, what has happened?” she asked softly, amazed at the timid sound of her own voice.

      He turned to look at her, and Lillis shivered. He was furiously angry, she could see it in his face and in his eyes. He looked ready to do violence.

      “Four dwellings were completely destroyed,” he answered with equal quietness. “Several others were damaged. It took most of the night to put the fire out.”

      “Was anyone—?” She squeezed her hands together until they hurt.

      “Killed?” he finished for her in a menacing tone. “No. Thank God! We thought one of the children had been lost, but she was found safe this morn. Aside from the tragedy it would have been, I hate to think what the people of Gyer would have demanded of me if she had died.” His meaning was very clear. Afraid, Lillis lowered her gaze.

      “How did it start?”

      “Not Dunsted,” he informed her, taking a few slow steps closer, standing in front of her.

      Lillis forced herself to meet his intense glare steadily.

      “Are you relieved? You have no reason to be. Did you think that was the reason for the tension you feel about you today? For the angered looks from the people of Gyer? You are wrong, Lillis of Wellewyn. I will tell you why my people want me to hand you over to them so that they can deal out justice as they see fit.” His teeth were clenched and his words seethed out. “The fire was started quite accidentally,” he said, “by a smoking fire. Can you imagine? It should have been a simple matter to put it out with only a few buckets of water. Especially after the rains of the night before. And especially because the Eel River ran practically right outside the door of the dwelling involved. Save that it does not run anymore, does it? Thanks to your loving father, the people who lived in that village had to stand by and watch their homes burn to the ground because they didn’t have sufficient water to put out a small, smoking fire.”

      Lillis gazed at him, fighting back tears of both horror and panic. Alexander of Gyer stared at her with growing anger. He grabbed her by both arms and shook her, his voice rising with his fury.

      “Don’t you dare to look at me like that!” Each word was punctuated with a shake. “I don’t want your damned sympathy! I have people who no longer have a roof over their heads and winter coming fast on their heels! I’ve just spent an entire night listening to their children wailing and to them worrying and wondering what they will do to survive. And all because of your father. Your beloved father.” He spat the words at her. “So don’t dare to stand there and have tears in yours eyes, Lillis of Wellewyn. I’ve not an ounce of pity left to spare you.”

      She tried to shake free, but to no avail. Alexander of Gyer held her fast. “I don’t want your pity!” she cried. “Can’t I feel badly about what happened? I’m not the one who dammed the river!”

      “No, you’re not,” he agreed bluntly, releasing her, “but your father did, and you and I are the ones who’ll pay for his sins.”

      There was something very final about his words, about the way he looked at her, and Lillis felt a shiver of apprehension.

      “What—what do you mean?”

      “I mean that I’ve come to a decision, Lillis of Wellewyn, about what I’m going to do with you.”

      That stunned her. He certainly seemed angry enough to hand her over to a violent crowd. The thought terrified her, for she knew very well the painful death she’d suffer. Perhaps she had learned how to be brave in the face of a hundred unruly children, but that was the extent of her courage.

      “Have you?” she managed to say in a shaking whisper.

      “I have,” he said, looking at her directly. “We are going to wed, you and I. The only way that I can get rid of